Mask of the Guardian

Bullets tear into the parked car as I dive behind it for cover. These police have a shoot-first, ask-later mentality. But they’re probably just afraid.

The afternoon sun hangs high overhead, but thankfully, the streets are empty of civilians.

Technically, it’s not illegal to be superhuman, but the state cracks down hard on any “enhanced human” using their gifts in pursuit of crime. And of course, being a vigilante is still against the law.

Plucking two golden, metallic spheres from the bandoleer on my chest, I roll them under the car and into the street.

Three.

Two.

One.

The chorus of gunfire and sirens is drowned out by a BANG that rattles everything within a dozen feet. The flash-compensator in my mask spares me the blinding effect, but my ears are still ringing as I dart back into the smoke-filled street. The smell of gunpowder and ammonia hangs heavy in the air, courtesy of my signature flash bangs.

The police, to their credit, aren’t blindly firing their guns every which way, but they are still standing between me and my ride.

An attractive young officer, seemingly spared the brunt of my flash-smoke-bangs, levels a shaky gun towards me as I dash across the road, but fails to react before the beetle-like object rockets from my gauntlet, hitting her in the chest.

Her pistol barks once, causing my force-shield to flare up as the bullet ricochets off somewhere. A heartbeat later, my beetle latches on, pumping the cop with electricity and dropping her to the concrete.

It’s non-lethal, of course. Despite the cool, edgy characters in comics and movies, I’m a firm believer that heroes don’t just go around killing people.

Besides, the police aren’t the bad guys here. Sure, they might be misguided, but they’re just doing their job. I am technically a criminal after all.

Hitting the alley at a dead sprint, I tap several buttons on my gauntlet.

My Gravity Glider shimmers back into view, the holographic masking disabled, and rises a few inches off the ground. With practiced precision, I leap aboard, lock my feet in like it was a high-tech snowboard and rocket off into the sky.

Tapping my gauntlet again, the holographic masking is re-enabled, making me effectively invisible to the city below.

Unfortunately, my quarry escaped, but there’s always next time.

Landing gently on the roof of my building, I grab the Gravity Glider in one hand and lead it like a horse through the door and down the stairs to my apartment.

One punch code and a retinal scanner later, and I’m in.

Immediately, I’m set upon by a dangerous beast, its claws digging into the armour on my thigh as it stretches its tiny body.

“Hey buddy,” I say to the fluffy calico cat. “Watch the Kevlar. It’s bulletproof, but I’m not a scratching post.”

The Sentinel of Fluff is my stalwart companion in my quest to thwart the super-villain problem. She’s cute, but… that’s about it.

Locking the door, I plug in the Gravity Glider and toss my mask on the table.

The mask and cowl have all kinds of tech built in and are mostly bulletproof, but they tend to get sweaty and gross. Maybe I should look at adding some liquid cooling?

I’m something of an inventor. Some enhanced-humans gain super strength, toughness, mind control, energy projection, or one of a thousand other cool powers. My gift makes me exceptionally good at problem-solving. Pretty lame by contrast. But coupled with a Master’s in Electrical Engineering, Mechanical Engineering, and Computer Science, I’ve been able to knock together some pretty cool gadgets.

My superhero moniker is The Guardian. I know it doesn’t have a cool tech-theme, like Gadget-Man; but it has a classic quality that I like. Plus, I want to protect the people of this city from the super villain menace, so it fits.

Peeling off the rest of the suit, I let it fall on the floor before wandering into the kitchen wearing nothing but a sweaty white t-shirt and my lucky duck-themed boxers.

My stomach growls as I stare into my fridge, trying to decide between eggs and hot dogs.

After a few moments of deep contemplation, I settle on neither, grabbing a soda and some chips from the cupboard. I make it two steps before I double back and grab the half-eaten bag of gummy bears to be safe.

With a pile of snacks and a cat on my lap, I flip on the television. Unfortunately, the sounds of shouting and banging echo through the floor from my downstairs neighbours, ruining the relaxing vibe.

I really need a better headquarters. Maybe something with soundproofing.

Turning the TV up to drown out the racket, I catch the tail end of a news broadcast.

“…attack believed to be carried out by the Dark Mantle, has left several injured.”

“Ugh,” I groan to my cat. “I hate Dark Mantle so much.”

Flipping the channel, I find some nice cartoons to help me unwind.

Strapped to the Gravity Glider, I sit perched on the roof of the municipal library. Sure, there are taller buildings to keep lookout from, but this has always been my happy place. While other kids were playing sports or hanging out with friends, I spent most of my youth escaping into novels or comic books, often here in this library.

I tap the side of my mask a few times to cycle over to the police band.

Same boring chatter.

I’m only concerned with crimes involving enhanced humans; crimes that normal police aren’t well-equipped to deal with.

At this time of the night, I would normally be sequestered in my lab, but my research is hitting some serious roadblocks. Hopefully, some exercise will get the ideas flowing.

Taking a deep breath of cool night air, I cast my gaze up and down the block. It wasn’t far from here that I saw my first real-life superhero, the Chrome Sentinel. He could transform into shiny metal and was about as tough as they come. Well, until Doctor Madness reduced him to a gibbering mess.

Doctor Madness was gunned down by police last spring, ending his particular reign of terror. And last I heard, the Chrome Sentinel now lives in an asylum, never really recovering from his battle with the super villain.

My reverie is interrupted by the chirp of the radio.

“Attention all units. Possible 459 in progress at Lincoln and Grand. Possible EHP involved.”

“Showtime,” I declare to no one in particular.

After a tap on the mask to kill the radio, I tap a button on my gauntlet and rise into the air.

“Let’s go catch a villain.”

The police have yet to make an appearance when I arrive at the Museum of Natural History. Their response time is usually closer to eight minutes, while I got here in less than two.

That leaves me at least five minutes to catch the bad guy and make good my escape.

Lowering the glider, I can see that the front doors are smashed in. Whoever broke in wasn’t concerned with keeping quiet.

Tapping my helmet, I activate the low-light vision on my mask and glide into the wreckage.

A man, barely visible through the dust and darkness, is crawling toward the exit.

The poor guy, clearly a security guard with a broken leg, doesn’t notice me until I lower the Gravity Glider to the floor beside him and disable the holo-masking.

The injured man recoils in fear, clearly startled by my silent arrival.

“D…D… Dark Mantle,” the night watchman mumbles, barely able to talk. His eyes are darting between me and deeper into the museum, the terror evident on his face.

“It’s alright, citizen,” I declare. “I am the Guardian. You’re safe now.”

With a sudden burst of energy, the night watchman continues his lame shimmying towards the exit, ignoring my cool introduction.

“Fricken Dark Mantle,” I grumble and double-check my gear.

Hovering further into the museum, I reactivate the holo-masking on the Gravity Glider.

The sounds of crashing and breaking glass are my guide as I weave through several exhibits.

“WHERE IS IT?” A voice roars from the next hall. “He said it would be here.”

Creeping in, I spot my quarry. At close to eight feet tall, with a whole lot of muscle and a coat of obsidian fur, she sort of reminds me of a werewolf with human legs and a normal face.

We’ve had a few run-ins before. This particular villain is fast, strong, and regenerates from injuries in minutes that would kill a regular person. It sounds cool, except for the whole looking like a beast-person hybrid. Unfortunately, she’s also very good at getting away.

Suddenly, despite my near-silence and almost-invisibility, the bestial villain spins towards me.

“You,” She growls.

I have barely a moment to react before she’s on me.

The force-shield on my left arm flares to life as her claws rake across its surface. A notification blinks in my HUD. That hit drained 28% of the force-shield’s battery and dispelled the holo-masking.

Lifting my glider to the villain’s furry mid-section. I blast backwards and create some space. If she pins me down, I’m done for.

Twisting, I rocket upwards, dodging a wild lunge. With the same motion, I drop several golden orbs to the marble floor, now twenty feet below.

The villain barely has time to recover from her reckless attack before a chorus of flash-smoke-bangs rock the hall.

Tapping my mask, I cycle my vision to thermal to see through the dense, acrid smoke that’s filling the area.

Showing up as little more than a red and orange blob, I spot the bestial villain. Despite clearly being dazed, she’s quickly stumbling toward the exit.

“Not this time,” I mumble, and fetch two silver orbs from the pouch on my hip.

Hurling the metallic spheres ahead of me, I fly down after my quarry.

The orbs explode within a few feet of the black-furred menace, but unlike the golden variant, these beauties fill an area around them in something akin to fast-drying glue.

“NOOO,” The villain cries as she tries to stomp forward. Even with her strength, making any reasonable progress through the adhesive goo is out of the question.

Circling around, I hover a dozen feet in front of the beast-woman and aim my gauntlet. With my free hand, I tap my mask and disable the thermal vision. It gives me a headache, and we’re clear of the smoke.

To my surprise, the villain is crying.

The goo has her held fast, but I fire two electro-beetles into her chest to be safe. The woman stops sobbing a moment later when the electricity wracks her body.

As silence settles on the museum once more, approaching sirens can be heard, heralding a complication I would rather not deal with.

With no time to waste, I pull a pair of high-tech manacles from my waist and secure the villain’s wrists. The electricity doesn’t affect me through my suit, but cuffing her is still a pain.

Finally, I grab the golden collar from my pack. As I’m about to clasp it around her neck, the dark-furred villain locks eyes with me, tears streaming freely down her almost-pretty face.

“Please,” she begs, fighting through the pain and shock from my electro-beetles. “Don’t take me… Let the police have me.”

“No,” I say simply, and snap the collar into place.

The trip back to HQ was slow and steady. Trying to fly fast while lugging a prisoner, while also keeping the holographic masking running, would’ve killed the Gravity Glider’s battery in no time. I’ve made that mistake once, but now I’ve got it down to a science.

The black-furred menace was relatively quiet for the trip, save for the odd whimpering and pleading. The manacles holding her captive would be difficult for her to break under normal conditions, but the golden collar ensures it’s all but impossible now.

A few years ago, not long after Doctor Madness defeated the Chrome Sentinel, something like twenty “enhanced humans” escaped from prison. Turns out it’s really hard to keep people with superpowers behind bars. So I started working on a proper solution to the villain problem.

That’s when I came up with the collar.

Once activated, the collars emit a special type of radiation via a synthetic isotope. This radiation effectively nullifies the powers of whoever is wearing it.

The only issue with the collars is the cancer. I still haven’t cracked that problem, but I’m close. My mind is already brimming with ideas after tonight’s outing.

Leaving the glider on the roof, I drag my prisoner through the door and into the stairwell. To my surprise, the collared woman digs in her heels, stopping me dead in my tracks when I try leading her downstairs. Her powers are gone, but she’s still a large specimen.

“Please, Dark Mantle,” the villain begs. “Don’t do this.”

Twisting, I hip-toss her down the stairs. She lands with a sickening crunch and tumbles a few times, screaming in pain the whole while.

“DON’T CALL ME THAT,” I shout after her.

Someone on the six o’clock news thought it sounded catchy, but that name... irks me.

“I am the Guardian,” I state calmly, trying to push down the burning rage. Taking a deep breath, I walk down and grab her by the manacles.

The villain cries out in pain on every step while I drag her down the stairs, her body thumping along rhythmically. I think she broke her leg when she fell down the stairs. But what can you do? She certainly can’t walk in her condition.

Passing my apartment door, I can hear the Sentinel of Fluff meowing in excitement.

“Don’t worry, baby,” I call out. “I’ll be home in a minute.”

Unfortunately, it takes at least thirty seconds to drag the prisoner to the ground floor, which means I probably just lied to my cat.

Punching in the code, I unlock the door to my lab. The racket hits me like a wave when the door swings open.

Slapping the red button on the wall, the lights in the lab dim for a moment as the telltale sound of electricity replaces the cacophony of profanity, threats and general rowdiness.

Continuing with my prisoner, I pass a dozen cages, each with a superpowered criminal currently being tased. Each villain is stripped to their undergarments and fitted with a golden collar that keeps them de-powered.

Unfortunately, they’re all sporting the black growths around their neck and shoulders to varying degrees. The cancerous tumours caused by the collars have, so far, been a guaranteed side-effect that comes on rather quickly.

In one cage, the corpse of a frail man lies on the floor. His neck and chest are completely overtaken by the black growths. I’ll have to dispose of the remains again, of course. Ideally, somewhere much harder for the police to find. But that’ll have to wait until after dinner, because I’m starving.

That reminds me; all I have are eggs and hot dogs. Maybe I should grab some takeout?

While running through a list of dinner options, I toss the dark-furred beast-woman into an open cage.

Shutting the bars, I watch the villain struggle back to her feet, despite the broken leg.

“You know,” I begin, gesturing to the other cages. “You just might be the solution to all of this.”

She just glares at me. What was once sorrow has now transformed into rage and defiance.

“Your regenerative capabilities could hold the key to solving the cancer problem,” I offer. “But we will need to run a battery of tests, of course.”

She snarls, showing her bestial nature. “I might look like this, but you’re the real monster.”

“I’m the hero,” I state simply. “You’re a museum-robbing super villain.”

As if my declaration robbed her of her will to fight, the nameless villain with the black fur slides to the floor. She tests the collar with her shackled hands once more, but gives up after a few moments.

“We all believe we’re the hero in our own story,” she mumbles, her voice now soft and resigned.

What an odd thing to say.

No matter.

First, I need some dinner, then I have work to do.